A Thousand Paintings for Your Eyes
by AzraelWrites
Summary: Cas is a struggling artist and a loner at college. Then he meets Dean who happens to be rooming next to him along with Charlie. Cas struggles with his not-so-platonic feelings for Dean, which is only exacerbated by the fact that Dean is getting a girlfriend. Mild-Medium Swearing
1. Chapter 1: Dean

Cas stared at the painting intently, his nose nearly brushing the wet paint. It was the night sky over a lake. Sparkling stars reflected in the deep blue water distorted, rippling. Dark hills rolled off into the distance and a crescent moon hung high in the sky. Swirls of blue and purple were mixed in with the black sky.

Carefully sweeping up some paint with his paintbrush, Cas added the stars to the sky small individual dots and broad constellations. Just as he was about to add some illumination to the moon, a large crash echoed through the building. The paintbrush shook in Cas's hands and fell, thankfully not on the painting.

"Hello," Cas called vaguely annoyed, "Who is that,"

"Sorry," another voice replied and then groaned. Cas walked to the door and opened it to see another student on their knees a fallen dresser on the carpet.

"Are you all right," Cas asked. He itched his nose looking for some stray paint.

"Yeah I'm good," He replied. He looked up and startling green eyes met Cas's. They were not a dull sort of green that many people had. No, they were bright emerald green and piercing. He could get lost in those eyes.

"Artist, I'm guessing," The man smirked looking at Cas's face. Embarrassed, he swiped at his nose again. The man laughed,"You're just smudging it."

Cas gave up and extended a hand to help the man up. He grasped it firmly and stood up his arm muscles straining through his forest green tee-shirt.

"Thanks..." The man started,

"Cas," He supplied quickly, "And you are?"

"Dean, I'm Dean,"

"Just moving in," Cas gestured to the dresser lying sideways on the carpet.

"Yeah," Dean replied sheepishly. He scratched his ear absentmindedly. "I just transferred from K-state."

"Kansas then." Cas nodded, "I'm from New York been here for my art program as you've already guessed." He gave a nervous half-laugh.

"Are you a good artist?" Dean asked smiling, "Will you paint me." He ruffled his hair with an exaggerated movement.

Cas laughed, "Maybe, if you're really nice." He unconsciously ran his hand through his own hair as well.

"So what are you here?" Cas asked curiously.

"Writing actually," Dean said, "My brother, Sam, teases me about it to no end," He gave a rueful smile.

"Is he nice, Sam," Cas asked.

"Yeah, he's a good kid, wicked smart, can be a bit of bitch sometimes though."

Cas was about to reply when,

"Hey, can you guys move the giant wooden thing in the middle of the hallway," A muffled voice called. They both turned to see a red headed girl carrying five bags in her arms. The bags towered above her head, swaying precariously.

"Uh, sure, sorry," Dean said and began to move over to the dresser. Cas rushed over to help and they lifted it up quickly. God, it was heavy. He had no idea how Dean had carried it up the stairs let alone by himself.

"Where's your room," Cas grunted struggling under the weight of the solid black dresser.

"Just over here." Dean guided the dresser careful not to scrape the clean white walls. As it turned out, Dean was only two doors down from Cas and the girl, Charlie was in between them.

"Hey guys," The girl said cheerfully, "I'm Charlie, Charlie Bradbury and you are?"

"I'm Cas," He said awkwardly,

"Dean," he extended a hand.

"Nice to meet y'all. Some things to know about me; I'm a lesbian and play violin so if it's three a.m. in the morning and you hear violin, that's me. Sorry." She spoke at the speed of light and Cas blinked still processing.

"Uh, ok then," Dean answered, just as perplexed as Cas.

"Well, it's nice to meet you two, but I think I'm going to finish my painting," Cas excused himself smiling as he walked back into his room. Maybe he was going to have some friends this year after all.

"You might want to look in a mirror first, it looks like you've painted yourself." Dean chuckled. Charlie gave a small laugh and turned to go to her room as well.

Cas walked back into his room closing the door. His paintbrush was still on the floor, the white paint already dried. Taking their advice, Cas walked into the cramped bathroom groaning as he saw his reflection. his nose was practically covered with paint, and black streaks on his forehead. And worst of all was after ruffling his hair, there were streaks of white in his black hair. No wonder Dean had laughed.

Grabbing a washcloth, Cas wiped his face clear of the paint and attempted to get it out of his hair- unsuccessfully. Finally, he decided a shower was the only course of action.


	2. Chapter 2: Doodles

It had begun as a sketch and idle drawing while bored in class. But suddenly moments later there was Dean at the edge of his paper. Cas realized that he had completely zoned out and missed what the teacher had been saying.

"With the proper shading technique," they continued and Cas watched with rapt attention. Class ended, and Cas began his hike across campus up the hill. Cursing his class schedule, he grunted carrying his backpack. The wind blew fallen leaves around in mini-tornadoes scattering down the hill. He shivered a little, his thin shirt was not good enough to protect from the encroaching cold.

In his next class, Cas was sitting down in his seat, when no one other than Dean walked it. In afterthought, it shouldn't have been surprising. As a writer, Dean would be taking a journaling class, Cas thought.

"Cas?" Dean asked smiling, his green eyes lit up.

"Hey," Cas answered with a smile as well. Dean slid into the seat next to him, his black backpack shoved under the cream-colored desk.

"So what is an 'artist' doing in a journaling class," Dean asked craning his neck to stare at him.

"Well, I figured it would be interesting," Cas answered honestly.

"Sure it wasn't to be in the same class as me?" Dean waggled his eyebrows. Cas sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I'm pretty sure as I met you months after I chose my schedule..."

"Whatever," Dean laughed and crossed his legs leaning back so that instead chair stood on its back legs.

"I'll laugh when you fall over," Cas remarked a smile on his face.

"Oh really," Dean raised an eyebrow and leaned back even further. Cas shook his head, "I tried to tell you," He said woefully and turned away to stare at the white walls of the room dramatically.

Then, the teacher walked in the door slamming behind him. Startled, Dean attempted to get back, but in the process, he lost balance and slammed to the wooden floor with an obnoxiously loud crash. Everyone looked around to see Dean lying on the floor groaning.

"I'm fine," He called already smiling again. He picked himself up and brought the chair upright.

"Told you so," Cas whispered.

"Whatever," Dean replied and turned to face the teacher.

Flipping through his journal, Cas came face to face with his drawing of Dean again. He continued this time green pen in hand. He carefully colored Dean's eyes, trying to capture the myriad hues when the light played on his eyes.

The lined paper was annoying, marring Dean's face, but Cas could always color over it later, or use white out if need be. He's jolted back to attention by Dean whispering in his ear, "Whatcha drawing?" Dean's breath tickled his neck making his hairs stand on end. Dean craned over to look.

"Nothing!" Cas quickly slammed the journal shut with a thump. A few students looked back, but thankfully the teacher remained oblivious.

"All right then," Dean remarked, "No need to get defensive." He leaned back in his seat resting his head on the backs of his arms, nonchalantly. Cas let out a breath, that would've been awkward. Hey man, I'm drawing you cause I think you're really pretty. And that was true, it wasn't that he was handsome, I mean he WAS handsome, but his eyes could only really be described as beautiful.

Cas slowly flipped back to a different page, determined to draw something that was not Dean. He finally settled on a fly perched on the windowsill, not moving in the late morning sun. His pencil flew across the page deliberate and determined. Cas was so intent on his picture, that he barely heard the teacher's words until Dean poked him.

"Hey, Mr. Private," He joked, "It's time to go."

"Sorry," Cas answered closing his notebook standing up.

"Why were you so concerned about me seeing you drawing a fly?" Dean asked. He stood up grabbing his backpack and his journal from the table.

"I don't know, I just don't like people seeing my art," Cas explained. It was true, especially when pieces weren't finished.

"Then how are you going to sell anything," Dean asked.

"Well, I'm fine with people seeing some of my work just not all of it." Dean didn't look convinced, "Besides, do you let people read your writing?" Cas countered.

"Fair point," Dean admitted giving a small half laugh. They walked outside and Cas clutched his arms, the cold attacking him yet again. And he had to hike all the way back across campus to the mess hall.

"You should've worn a sweater," Dean remarked clad in his own comfortably warm jacket.

"I know." Cas glared at him rubbing his arms. He sped up determined to get out of the cold as quickly as possible.

"Hurry up," He called back to Dean who was strolling languidly emphasizing his deep breaths and admiration of the landscape.

"No, I think I'm going to stay out here in this pleasant weather for a little while longer."

"Fine," Cas said, "I'll go without you."

"I'm hurt by this betrayal," Dean said to no one in hurried to catch up with him. He threw one arm around Cas's neck. Cas turned around surprised. The physical touch unnerved him, but it was warm, so he didn't complain.

They reached the mess hall together and Cas went in, glad to be out of the cold, but when Dean unslung his arm from his neck, he missed the weight of it.

"Does this temperature better suit you," Dean mocked, " My highness."

"Yes," Cas said vehemently and went off to get his food. He sensibly chose a salad with some fruit, while the monster behind him took a family's worth of food.

"What are you an elephant," Cas asked incredulously as they sat down, Dean's food teetering precariously at the edges of his plate. Cas swore he could see the white paper buckling under the weight.

"And what are you a rabbit," Dean replied looking at Cas's salad, disgusted, "I've seen five-year-olds eat more."

"And I've seen 500 pound Sumo wrestlers eat less,"

"Well, I burn off the calories," Dean said flexing. Cas laughed. "That's why you eat so little, you're so scrawny you don't need anything,"

"Hey." Cas pretended to be offended and lightly punched Dean's arm.

"See, that was the weakest punch I've ever seen," Dean gloated and took a sip of water. Cas didn't deign to respond and instead took a bite of his salad. Dean too began to inhale his massive meal and Cas looked on in equal parts awe and disgust.

Somehow, inexplicably Dean finished before Cas did.

"How?" Cas gaped, his mouth hanging open, "How did you finish before me?"

"Talent," Dean said simply and placed his fork onto the cleared plate.

"I wouldn't call that," Cas gestured to Dean's empty plate, "Talent." He pursed his lips holding back a laugh.

"Well, it's a more efficient use of the limited time I have on Earth," Dean argued.

"Getting philosophical are we?" Cas raised an eyebrow.

"I'm a writer aren't I, we're supposed to be deep and philosophical"


	3. Chapter 3: Coffee and LOTR

Cas was back in his room and he stared at his painting again. His eyes flickered to his backpack slung to the side full of homework that needed to be done. He sighed and finished smudging the white halo of the moon and considered the painting finished. It wouldn't do to overwork it.

Too many hours later, Cas sighed nursing a cup of tea his hands savoring the warmth. It reminded him too much of Dean's arm around his back. Platonic friends didn't think that, did they?

Cas gave another sigh and continued working on his journaling section. The sun had long set and the moon was a faint crescent and the stars glowed brightly. He worked by lamplight and he rubbed his eyes tiredly.

Finally, he stood up and put up his painting on eBay and went to sleep fully clothed, staring at the white ceiling until his eyes grew too heavy to keep open.

"It's the weekend, finally" Dean sighed dramatically and flopped onto the unmade bed. The rumpled blue covers were half off the other side of the bed and pooling into a corner.

"It's only been a week, how are you going to survive the school year?" Cas laughed. Dean cracked an eye open.

"Coffee, lots and lots of coffee," He said totally seriously.

"Really?" Cas asked, "I don't like coffee." his nose scrunched up in distaste. He had tried it once, it was too bitter.

"What's wrong with you?" Dean was fully awake now, "How do you not like coffee?"

"How do you like it?" Cas returned

"It's like the nectar of the gods. The ambrosia of college students." Dean looked up at the ceiling his hands outstretched.

"Ok then," Cas edged away holding in a laugh. Dean grabbed his arm and pulled Cas away from the door.

"You must not have had good coffee then?" Dean was still looking at him incredulously. "I'm fixing that this weekend. We're going to a good coffee place."

"But I've got homework," Cas whined and pulled on Dean's arm to get away.

"It's the weekend," Dean exclaimed, "You don't have to worry about that until Sunday."

Cas stared at him in mock horror. "My concerns for your survival this school year has gone way up." Dean let go of Cas's arm and Cas rubbed his wrist.

"Eh." Dean groaned and leaned back down his eyes closed, tugging his flannel sweatshirt closer to him.

The next morning Cas was woken up by a hand roughly shaking him from sleep.

"What?" Cas moaned blearily. He rubbed his eyes slowly opening them to see Dean standing over him. Cas immediately jerked the covers up to cover his exposed chest.

"What the hell Dean!"

"I'm taking you to a coffee place, remember."

"I thought you were joking," Cas moaned and turned over so his face was pressed into the warm caress of the pillow.

"Nope." Dean rolled him over so he was facing upwards.

"Ugh." Cas closed his eyes.

"I'll see you in ten minutes." Dean left leaving the lights on.

Cas reluctantly got up and went to the shower immediately. And washed his hair quickly scrubbing himself down with some soap. Cas stared down at the wet tile, watching the water drip down the drain, lost in thought. He didn't understand Dean. He was everything Cas didn't like it someone: Loud, strong, sometimes obnoxious. But he was so much more than that. Though he appeared to be a dumb jock, Cas could see his philosophical moments and he laughed them off. And it was during those little nuggets of time that Cas felt whole. When he was with Dean it was like the world turned to color.

When the water grew frigid, Cas was torn from his thoughts and turned the water off quickly drying his hair and pulling on a blue shirt and some jeans. He finger-combed the hair slightly and went over to Dean's room, trying to push his thoughts out of his brain.

"This better be a freakin' good coffee," He yelled into his room. Suddenly the door of Charlie's room cracked open.

"Did someone say coffee?" She asked excitedly.

"Yes," Dean opened his own door, "This guy." He jabbed his finger at Cas, "Doesn't like coffee," he said it slowly. Charlie slowly turned to him.

"You don't like coffee? How can you not like coffee, it's like the best thing on planet Earth!"

"That's what I told him!" Dean exclaimed, "that's why we're going to a coffee place to show him what proper coffee is."

"Can I join you," Charlie asked.

"Sure," Cas answered, "That'd be great."

And so, all three of them went down to a local coffee place. It was small, but still bustling with people. A noisy chatter pervaded the space and the smell of coffee, which Cas could admit was quite good, issued through the air. Charlie took a while to decide but finally chose a vanilla cappuccino. Dean ordered a double expresso and finally ordered Cas a cappuccino as well. When it arrived, he apprehensively sniffed it before taking a sip. His mouth scrunched up in a grimace.

"Come on," Dean said, "You have to like it, at least a little?" he pleaded.

"Well, if you don't want it, I'll take it," Charlie said taking a long drink of her own.

"I think that much caffeine would quite possibly kill you," Cas said.

"Are you kidding!" Charlie laughed, "I once drank like 15 espressos at once... I was so hyper." She drummed her fingers on the table looking over at the barista.

"I am so glad I wasn't there when that happened," Dean said to Cas.

Cas nodded and cringed; there was a terrible picture in his head of Charlie literally bouncing off the walls while shrieking loudly.

"Come on guys," Charlie groaned and grabbed Cas's cup.

"Hey," Cas reached out to stop her. In the process, his hand smacked into Dean's coffee spilling it all over Dean's shirt. He suddenly stopped.

"Are you ok? I'm so sorry," Cas apologized. He frantically looked around for a paper towel to clean up the dripping coffee on the table and Dean's shirt. He quickly rushed up to the counter and grabbed a bunch and mopped up the mess.

"I am so sorry," He repeated again looking at Dean nervously, "I didn't mean to."

"It's fine," Dean laughed squeezing the coffee out of his shirt, "Don't take it so seriously. It's just a shirt. I have like three others in the exact same color."

"Still," Cas handed him some of the paper towels, "It was your coffee, that you paid for and stuff.

"Seriously, it's ok," Dean waved him off, "Chill."

"Ok..." Cas sat back down. "Are you sure you don't want my coffee?" He suddenly asked shoving his cup towards Dean. Dean shoved it back.

"Oh my God," Charlie interjected, "Get a room or something." She sighed and took another sip of her coffee.

"Excuse me," Both Dean and Cas turned to look at her. She stared back at them.

"Seriously guys it's like your in a soap opera, except it's a 100% gayer,"

"I'm not gay," Dean interrupted.

"Sure you aren't," Charlie laughed.

"What's that supposed to mean," Dean glowered at the table.

"I was just joking, lighten up!" Charlie laughed

"Does anyone want to take a walk?" Cas suggested hoping to dissolve the conflict. It wouldn't be fun to have both his roommates fighting.

"Yeah, that would be a great idea," Dean replied, pointedly not looking at Charlie.

"Sure," Charlie agreed and drained her coffee in one gulp.

"You could've taken it with you," Cas pointed out, standing up from his seat. Charlie shrugged making her red hair swing back and forth. She slid her chair back with an annoying screech and stood up stretching her arms above her head.

Dean got up silently and grabbed his coffee cup to throw away.

"I think that's a testy subject for him," Cas stood closer to Charlie conspiratorily whispering.

"Are you saying he's a homophobe," She said back anger flashing in her eyes.

"No," Cas defended him automatically, "At least I don't think so." he amended reluctantly. He stepped back, away from Charlie as Dean walked back, coffee cup disposed of.

Cas held the door open for Charlie and Dean and the bells jingled wildly as it closed behind him. Cas shrugged his coat tightly around himself as the cold morning air nipped at his skin.

"It's cold," He remarked. Neither of them replied and Cas kept walking.

"So favorite movies," Charlie questioned.

"Hmm..." Cas pondered, he didn't really have a favorite movie, "Harry Potter, I guess,"

"Nice," Charlie nodded, "How about you Dean?"

"Lord of the Rings," he said bluntly.

"Never watched it," Cas commented. Charlie turned to look at him.

"Ok, you don't like coffee you've never watched Lord of the Rings...who are you?" She sighed, "Bet you've never watched star trek either..."

"No," Cas said slowly.

"Honestly, I don't know how we can be friends."

"Hey!" Cas said indignantly.

They fell back into an easy rhythm of banter. It was like the argument had never happened in the first place. Even Dean softened up eventually after the next two corny puns that Charlie made.

Later that evening, Dean and Cas somehow ended up curled up on Dean's bed watching the first Lord of the Rings movie together. As time passed and the popcorn bowl grew empty, Cas grew drowsy. Drugged by tiredness he leaned onto Dean his head resting on his lap.

And somehow Dean's hand ended up on his head. Dean's fingers intertwined in Cas's hair. Ordinarily, Cas would've gotten up, but he was so tired and it felt so good. It made this warm, happy feeling in his core to have Dean touching his hair. Platonic friends didn't feel that, did they? Too exhausted to think about it, Cas just closed his eyes and relaxed into a dream-filled sleep.

The next morning he woke up in an unfamiliar bed. Groggy from sleep he opened his eyes and blinked, confused This wasn't his room. His gaze roamed around and turned to Dean standing at a counter making coffee.

"Dean," he yawned rubbing his eyes, "What are you doing here?"

Dean turned around quickly.

"Oh, you're awake."

"Yeah..." Cas looked around the room, "where am I?"

"My room..." Dean said, "You fell asleep last night." He didn't elaborate further.

"Do you want some coffee?" He asked offering the mug to Cas.

"No thanks, I thought we'd been over this."

"Are you sure you don't want some," Dean cajoled, "It's so good!" he took a long sip from his coffee mug."

"For goodness sake, give it up," Cas shook his head, "I don't like coffee."

"Your loss I guess,"

"Now tea, tea is good," Cas nodded his head enthusiastically.

"What are you a hippy," Dean's lip curled up.

"You made me try coffee, now you have to try tea," Cas smiled. Revenge was sweet. Very sweet.


End file.
